


Waiting Room

by GemmaRose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7858309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a fight ends badly, Hunk is hurt and needs more medical attention than a cryo-pod can provide. Luckily for the paladins, they're close to home.</p><p>Crossposted from the <a href="https://voltron-kink.dreamwidth.org/1161.html?thread=220041#cmt220041">Voltron kink meme</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting Room

One second everything was fine, Voltron had just destroyed a galran fleet headed into Earth’s solar system and Lance was projecting high-fives to the other Paladins through their mental bond. The next, an explosion rocked their lions and all of them were crying out in pain.

“Shiro, Lance!” Allura yelled over the comms. “Hunk needs medical attention, get him back to the castle **now**!”

“On it.” Shiro said, voice tight with pain but steady nonetheless. Lance blindly pushed Blue forward, letting his Lion see and guide him over to Yellow. The sturdiest Lion had a massive hole in her armour, definitely enough to depressurize Hunk’s cockpit, and Lance’s stomach turned. Partly at the thought of that laser having hit its intended target, Earth, but mostly at the thought of Hunk floating in an airless void.

“Not the castle.” Pidge said suddenly. “There’s shrapnel, he needs surgery.”

“Shit.” Keith swore, and Lance’s hands shook as he pressed Blue’s shoulder to Yellow’s.

“We’re going to Earth.” Shiro said, his tone leaving no room for argument as they started dragging Yellow through space. “Pidge, Keith, get your Lions in the castle and follow in a pod. Allura, don’t bring the castle any closer than Mars. One of us will call when it’s safe for you and Coran to come down.”

“Get him to a hospital.” Allura ordered, and Lance nodded even though there was no active video feed for her to see him on.

The flight in was a blur, and not the way Blue’s initial takeoff had been. Lance was vaguely aware of guiding Blue down towards the Garrison, of leaping to the ground and scrambling up Yellow’s burning hot side, of climbing through the still-smoking hole. His heart hammered in his chest the whole time, a chant of _no no no_ running through his head and maybe out of his mouth. Hunk had to be okay, he just had to be. The Paladins of Voltron needed to have five people, five Lions. Yellow could be repaired, Hunk could repair her, but...

Hunk was slumped over his Lion’s dashboard, a massive gash in his helmet and countless pieces of shrapnel piercing through the back of his pilot seat amidst holes that had been pierced all the way through. The sharp ends he could see were covered in blood. “Hunk? Hunk!” Lance yelled, pulling his friend into his arms. Hunk was heavy, so heavy, and Lance carefully laid him down on his front, head turned to the side like he was just taking a really awkward nap. “C’mon, buddy.” he shook Hunk by the shoulder, heart in his throat. “You can’t do this, not now, not when we just got back.” he clutched the edge of Hunk’s pauldron, knuckles paling with the force of his grip.

Footsteps rang against Yellow’s slanted floor, and Lance had his bayard ready to fire in under a heartbeat. “Say who you are, or I swear to god I **will** shoot you.” he snarled, placing himself between his friend and the intruder.

“My- my name is Vlado Cararra.” an unfamiliar voice said. “I’m an EMT.”

Lance had never deactivated his bayard faster in his life. “Get in here.” he snapped, moving aside so the pale man could see Hunk. Vlado gasped at the sight, and nearly dropped the stretcher in his hands. “You can save him, right?” his voice cracked a little at the end, and the EMT crossed the room with sure steps.

“We’ll try.” he said, laying the stretcher next to Hunk. “How old is he?”

“Uh, eighteen.” Lance said, hanging his bayard on his hip. “Nineteen in a few weeks.” his hands were shaking, he realized belatedly.

“Any allergies, pre-existing medical conditions?” the EMT asked, glancing at Lance as he levered Hunk up enough to get the stretcher under him.

“No, I don’t think so.” Lance shook his head.

“Okay.” the EMT had somehow gotten Hunk on the stretcher, and now was gripping Lance by the wrists. “My team can’t get up here, so I need you to help me get this guy outside. We’ve got a helicopter waiting to take both of you to the hospital.”

Lance wanted to protest that he should stay here with Yellow and Blue, but Hunk groaned weakly and his heart jumped into his throat. “Okay.” he nodded, taking the handles the EMT pointed at. Getting into the helicopter was a loud blur, and Lance only barely remembered to grab his friend’s bayard before any of the civilians got curious. Someone draped an obnoxiously orange blanket around his shoulders and pushed him gently but insistently down into a seat. He caught the words Massive Trauma, Internal Bleeding, Miracle, and then stopped listening. Hunk was going to pull through. He was Hunk, he had to.

The helicopter touched down, and most of the paramedics and EMTs rushed out with Hunk but one of them stayed behind and crouched in front of him. The same one from earlier, Vlado.

“Hey, kid. I forgot to ask earlier, but what’s your name?”

Lance couldn’t help it, he laughed. A year and a half of being a Paladin of Voltron, of risking his life in skirmishes with enemies beyond human comprehension, of seeing allies and enemies die in explosions which destroyed whole ships, and this guy was calling him _kid_. His shoulders shook, and he clutched Hunk’s bayard with both hands. None of them had been kids in a long time.

“Okay, let’s get you inside.” Vlado said calmly, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to his feet. Lance let the guy lead him into the building, the raw, painful laughter subsiding into harsh, humourless giggles in the elevator down, and he let himself be pushed into a hard plastic seat in a room bustling with people. It was weirdly grounding, to sit in the same type of chair he’d spent most of his educational career in.

“Lance!”

He looked up from Hunk’s bayard after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, and found himself being pulled out of the chair into a tight hug. Shiro. Shiro was hugging him, metal arm around the small of his back and human hand keeping Lance’s head tucked over his shoulder. Lance felt some of the shaking tension leave him, and hugged back as tight as he could. Shiro held him at arm's length when he pulled away, and looked him up and down.

“You’re okay?” he asked, releasing Lance’s shoulders to pull the blanket back around them properly.

“Yeah.” Lance nodded once. “How’s Hunk?”

“In surgery.” Shiro left his human hand on Lance’s shoulder and guided him back to the chair he’d been sitting in. “The others are on their way, and Hunk’s parents will be here soon.”

Lance nodded again and leaned against Shiro, gripping Hunk’s bayard with both hands once more. He could sense Pidge and Keith approaching, their fear resonating with Shiro’s and his own. It felt wrong, not being able to sense Hunk after being constantly linked for almost a year. A nurse came over to ask Shiro some questions about Hunk, and Lance sat there quietly as he answered. The nurse gave them a pitying look as she left, and he tried not to think about it too much. A commotion near one of the interior doors vaguely registered, but Lance didn’t lift his head until he heard the sound of a bayard materializing and felt Keith’s burning anger.

“My friends are in there!” Keith yelled, brandishing his sword and baring his sharp teeth. “So you let me through, or I fucking _make you_.”

“Keith!” Shiro snapped, standing and crossing to the doorway where a poor, terrified nurse was keeping Keith and Pidge from entering. “Stand down.”

Keith deactivated his bayard and Lance stood to follow Shiro, leaving his blanket on the chair.

“I wasn’t going to stab _her_.” the Red Paladin huffed, crossing his arms.

“We don’t need anyone else in surgery tonight.” Shiro sighed, then turned to the pale-faced nurse. “Sorry about that, ma’am. He’s a bit on-edge. Could you point us to a waiting room?”

“Oh, yes, just follow the signs.” she gestured to a grey rectangle hanging on the beige wall. Lance actually had to look twice to confirm that yes, he could in fact read every word written on it.

“Lance?” Pidge grabbed his arm as they fell in step behind Shiro. “How bad was it?”

Lance’s stomach turned at the memory of Hunk’s back, his armour shattered into a million bloody pieces, bits of Yellow embedded in his flesh like a sick parody of porcupine quills. “Bad.” he said simply. and Keith’s hand slid into his in silent support. They found seats marginally more comfortable than the ones in the last room, and Shiro went to talk to a young man behind a desk. He didn’t look much older than them, and quickly agreed to whatever it was Shiro was asking.

Lance found himself staring at the clock on the wall, watching its hands count the minutes since they brought Hunk in. How long was a surgery like this supposed to take? Would they be allowed to take Hunk back to the castle to heal in a cryo-pod once the doctors were done? He’d heal better in a cryo-pod, that was for sure. Like, yeah it didn’t take out any shrapnel, the bits of crystal forever embedded in Lance’s back were a testament to that fact, but he’d come out perfectly fine after twenty four hours.

“Please, my son.” a woman was half sobbing at the desk. The guy behind it looked very uncomfortable. “I got a call from Iverson that he was brought in here.”

Iverson? Lance felt a flash of anger from Pidge, and nearly scowled. They still hadn’t been able to rescue the Holts, but both men were alive in a prison camp with lower death rates than the usual. And Iverson had wanted to brush them aside, pretend Shiro had gotten them killed. As if Shiro would make a mistake like that!

“Your son is still in surgery, Mrs. Garrett. You and your husband can take a seat in here and a doctor will come for you when he’s out.”

Lance sat up straighter at the name, and actually looked at the most recent couple who’d come in the doors. He’d only ever seen her in photos and video calls, and her hair had gotten way more grey since then, but that was unmistakably her. He stood up, suddenly keenly aware of how visibly Hunk’s bayard wasn’t his, and pulled his helmet off. Setting it on his seat, he crossed the room to stand behind them. “Mrs. Garrett?” he said hesitantly, feeling the dawning comprehension from Pidge and Keith, who only knew of Hunk’s parents from his stories.

Both adults turned around, and after a moment Mr. Garrett’s eyes widened. “You’re that Lance boy.” he said, evidently remembering those same video calls from what felt like a lifetime ago

“Yes, sir.” Lance ducked his head, turning Hunk’s bayard over in his hands. It wasn’t his to give, and Hunk’s parents wouldn’t even know its significance, but he still wanted to hand it over. “I-” he choked on a ragged thing which was way too close to a sob, then swallowed hard and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. This is his.” he held out the bayard, and felt no disapproval from any of the others.

Shiro laid a hand on his shoulder as Mrs. Garrett took the bayard, her eyes flicking between their uniforms and catching on Lance’s highly visible bayard. “I know you must have questions, but you should know that your son is one of the bravest men I’ve ever met.”

“Are you the one who took him?” Hunk’s mom snapped, clutching the yellow bayard to her chest. “Is it your fault when my _son_ came home, it was into a hospital?”

“Yes.” Shiro bowed his head, and Lance placed a hand over the one on his shoulder. It wasn't, it was the fault of the galra who had shot that laser, but Shiro wouldn't accept that until Hunk was better.

“Who even are you?” Mr. Garrett spat, putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. “This Lance boy is my son’s friend, but why are you and the rest of those costumed freaks here?”

Keith and Pidge prickled, but Shiro didn’t react at all. “Hunk and I are on a team, as are Lance and Keith and Pidge.” he lifted his hand from Lance’s shoulder. “Lance, go sit with them and make sure Keith doesn’t do something stupid.” his tone was the one they joking called his Dad Voice, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay.” Lance said, and stepped back.

“You’re that pilot.” Mrs. Garret said as Lance walked away. “The one who got the Holts killed on the Kerberos mission.”

Pidge shot to their feet, and the crackle of their bayard energizing made Lance’s hair stand on end. “No, he didn’t!” Pidge yelled, drawing every eye in the room as the doors slid open. “My dad and brother are **alive** , and even if they weren’t, it wouldn’t be Shiro’s fault!”

“Miss Holt.”

Pidge froze, fear spiking through them. Their bond filled briefly with _fearguiltshame_ , and Keith’s hand went to his bayard.

“Iverson.” Lance said, doing his best to keep his tone level as Pidge's emotions simmered back down their current mutual baseline plus some old anger. He walked over to stand next to Pidge, letting his hand rest on his bayard. If the bastard tried anything, he was reasonably certain his laser gun had a stun setting.

“I believe you were banned from Garrison property. What are you doing here?”

“None of your business.” Pidge snapped, bayard crackling. Lance stepped in front of them and unholstered his bayard, crossing his arms so Iverson could see it clearly.

“We’re here because Hunk is here, and we’re not leaving until we know he’s okay.” he said firmly, meeting Iverson's eyes.

“Are you?” Iverson scowled. Lance scowled right back. He wasn’t a cocky, bottom-of-the-class fighter pilot in training anymore, but Iverson didn’t seem to realize that. Under any other circumstance, he would've been downright offended.

“Absolutely.” Keith said from his seat against the wall, one foot resting on his knee. His bayard glowed, and Lance felt Shiro’s resigned disappointment as the familiar red and white blade crackled into existence. He didn’t care that much though, because Iverson was a dick and Keith actually looked cool and menacing for once. Usually he just kinda looked like a tool, but the fluorescent lights caught in his reflective irises and glinted on the reinforced claws which tipped his gloves and when he smiled Lance felt a smugness which meant Keith _knew_ he was pulling it off. “Got a problem with that, Lieutenant?”

Iverson opened his mouth, looked between Pidge’s tazer-blade and Keith’s fucking sword and Lance’s yet-unactivated bayard, and squared his shoulders. “I suppose that an exception could be made.” he blustered. Lance suppressed a grin. Behind him, he had a feeling Keith didn't. “I’m only here to tell McClain and Shirogane that their families have been informed and are on their way.”

Lance’s almost-smile fell at the rush of guilt from Pidge, and he reached back to put a hand on their elbow. Shiro said something placating to the Garretts, and walked up to stand on Pidge’s other side. “Thank you for that, Lieutenant.” he said stiffly. The words weren’t spoken, but it was a clear dismissal. In any other situation, Lance would’ve laughed. Probably punched Hunk in the shoulder and made a crack about how they were so much better than their former teacher. But Hunk wasn’t here, Hunk was in an operating room having shrapnel pulled out of his body because they hadn’t destroyed the planet- exploding laser gun as well as they thought.

“Mr. and Mrs. Garrett? Mr. Shirogane?” Lance turned at the hesitant request for Shiro’s attention, anticipation and hope resonating between him and the other three Paladins.

“Is it Hunk? Is he okay?” Mrs. Garrett asked tearfully, Hunk’s bayard clenched in her soft hands.

“He’s still in surgery, but he’s holding up well.” the doctor said, raising his hands placatingly. “I’m here to tell you that we have a private waiting room, if you’d prefer to sit in there. With the amount of damage to his internal organs, it’ll be a while until he’s out of the OR.”

Shiro nodded once, and the Garretts looked at each other before doing the same. The private room had squishier seats, and a small couch which Lance squeezed onto with Keith and Pidge, and without the background noise of the general waiting area the stony silence from Hunk’s parents was deafening.

“You said he’s a soldier.” Hunk’s mom said after a few painful minutes. “Does that mean all of you are...?”

“Yeah.” Pidge answered, nodding briefly. “We’re Paladins.”

“And this, Voltron thing.” Hunk’s dad said slowly. “He agrees with it?”

Lance couldn’t help but chuckle. “Hunk got with the program faster than any of us. One time he met these people whose home was being strip-mined to death, and wouldn’t shut up about helping them until we went and stopped the guys doing it.”

“That sounds like our boy.” Hunk’s mom smiled.

The waiting room fell silent again, and Lance found himself staring at the clock. There was something comforting about watching the hands tick slowly around, knowing they were counting out seconds and minutes and hours instead of ticks and all that. He must’ve zoned out a bit, because it seemed like the hands moved an awful lot in one blink and then Pidge was clearing their throat.

“Um, could I borrow one of your phones?” they asked quietly. “My mom’s probably worried sick.”

“Of course, deary.” Hunk’s mom reached into her purse and pulled out an honest to god flip phone. It looked like the same one she’d had in the background of a video call two years ago.

“Is that the one you wouldn’t let Hunk upgrade?” Keith asked, speaking for the first time since his threat to Iverson.

“Yes, actually. How did you know?” Mrs. Garrett said, holding the ancient phone out to Pidge, who took it and left the room without a word.

“Hunk told us.” Shiro grinned, small and tight but not faked.

“A few dozen times.” Keith rolled his eyes. “And he’ll probably complain about it again when he gets out of surgery.”

“He will.” Hunk’s dad laughed. Lance grinned, and leaned against Keith a little bit. Keith leaned back, and Lance relaxed against him. Hunk would get out of surgery ok, and they’d call Allura to come down with the castle and everything would be alright. And if Hunk didn't get out of surgery ok, well, he’d rather not think about that.


End file.
